Free Year of the Monsoon by Caren J. Werlinger Page A

Leisa’s hand, like an anchor holding her in the present, refusing to let the ghosts of the past pull her under.

Chapter 8
    IT SEEMED THAT THEY had no sooner returned to Baltimore than it was time for Nan to pack again for Williamsburg. Leisa carried an armful of clean laundry upstairs to the bedroom.
    “Here’s some clean underwear and socks,” she said.
    “Thanks.” Nan’s voice echoed a little from the bathroom. Leisa was sorting clothes into piles on the bed when Nan emerged.
    “Have you decided what –” Leisa began as she looked up. “Have you been crying?”
    Nan didn’t answer as she pulled open a dresser drawer and rummaged through it for sweaters to bring. “It’s always so damned cold at these things.”
    Leisa went to her and took her by the shoulders. “What is it?” she asked, concerned.
    “I just don’t want to go to this conference,” Nan replied moodily.
    Leisa smiled in relief. “It’s only for a few days.” She pulled Nan to her and kissed her neck. “We could send you off with some good reasons to hurry home,” she said suggestively, as her hands slid under Nan’s t-shirt.
    Nan grabbed Leisa’s wrists and stopped her. “Not now. I’ve got too much to do,” she said a trifle impatiently as she pulled away.
    Leisa’s face burned as if she’d been slapped. She turned back toward the laundry on the bed. Nan realized what she’d done and reached for her arm, saying, “I’m sorry.”
    “What is wrong with me?” Leisa asked, hurt tears welling up in her eyes.
    “Nothing. Nothing is wrong with you,” Nan insisted, pulling Leisa down to sit next to her on the edge of the bed.
    “Do you know how many months it’s been since we made love?” Leisa asked. “I try, and you don’t respond. There must be some reason,” she gasped as she started to cry in earnest.
    “How did you expect her to react?” Maddie asked days later when Nan’s world blew apart and she finally told Maddie everything.
    “It’s me,” Nan said, trying to put an arm around Leisa’s shoulders, but Leisa shrugged her away. “I just can’t… I can’t be that for you right now.”
    Leisa turned to look at her with tears streaming down her cheeks. “I don’t understand.”
    “There’s so much I need to tell you –”
    Leisa stood suddenly, her eyes cold and accusing. “Is there someone else? Because if that’s it, don’t you dare give me this ‘it’s all me’ bullshit.”
    “No!” Nan exclaimed. “There’s no one else, I promise. Not… not like that. Please,” she pleaded. “We need to talk. I tried before my grandmother died, but… I just can’t get into it right before I leave. I’ll explain everything when I get back.”
    Leisa’s eyes remained distrustful. “Fine. Maybe when you get back, I’ll sleep with you again. But not tonight.”
    She left the room and went down the hall, slamming the door of the guest room.

    Friday afternoon found Leisa stuck in rush hour traffic on I-95 South. Jo Ann and Bruce were watching Bronwyn for the weekend so Leisa could drive to Williamsburg and surprise Nan.
    “Are you sure surprising her is a good idea?” Jo had asked. “Isn’t she going to be busy with her conference?”
    “She’s been there since Wednesday, and if I know her, she’s probably been eating every meal alone in her room.” What Leisa couldn’t tell her aunt was that they hadn’t spoken since their argument Tuesday night.
    Traffic began to move.
    “Come on,” she urged, watching the speedometer needle creep up to forty.
    The past three days had been hell. She’d barely slept. She and Nan had never slept apart out of anger, but even worse, she’d gotten up early Wednesday morning and left for work without seeing Nan off. Now she couldn’t shake the guilt she felt. They’d never gone this long without speaking, but “I don’t even know what to say to her at this point,” she would have said because she was afraid to imagine whatever it was Nan hadn’t been